


Licence to Thrill

by lachatblanche



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Charles Is a Big Dorkface, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 16:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5011447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachatblanche/pseuds/lachatblanche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik thinks he knows what to expect when he is due to meet Agent 00X, the most legendary spy in the British Secret Service. </p>
<p>He quickly realises that he is wrong.</p>
<p>He also realises that he really doesn't mind all that much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Licence to Thrill

**Author's Note:**

> An AU based on the older, cheesier James Bond films.

‘The name is Xavier. Charles Xavier.’

Erik rolled his eyes as the man next to him introduced himself to yet another of what had to have been a hundred indistinguishably pretty girls who had happened to walk past them in the last half hour. 

He had met Agent Xavier – or 00X, according to his Secret Service designation – only thirty-five minutes before at the bar of a stylish yet low-key jazz club, as arranged, but already he was having doubts that the man beside him really was his much-admired contact from MI6; the man that he had heard so much about. 

(The man that he – although he’d rather die than let anyone know it – had desired for so long to meet.)

He grimaced as he heard the low, intimate laugh directed at something that Xavier had said, and glared mulishly down at his near-depleted glass of scotch as the pretty redhead Xavier was flirting with coyly twisted her hair around her finger, her eyes alight with unmistakeable interest.

He’d had some idea of Agent Xavier’s … _foibles_ beforehand, of course – how could he not, when any and all reports of the man were littered with mentions of his overpowering charm and examples of his numerous conquests? – but he had always assumed that the stories had been exaggerated in the way that urban legends often were, or that Xavier’s proclivities were consigned to his private life rather than his professional one.

Now, however, Erik had come to the conclusion that anything and everything he had ever heard about Agent Charles Xavier was a total fabrication; that the man was nothing better than a tolerably good looking idiot, and that this whole meeting was a complete and utter waste of time. This was most certainly _not_ the man who had brought down the infamous Dr. Essex and his underwater lair, had vanquished the evil dictator Victor von Doom and had saved the world on countless other occasions. This man was a _moron_ and if he didn’t stop flirting with that dim little redhead in the next thirty seconds then Erik would be forced to do something drastic.

Ten seconds before Erik could brain his useless contact with a metal bat (or, as was more likely, storm off in a thoroughly unprofessional huff and proceed to sulk in a corner), Xavier finally drew back from the redhead, giving her a friendly smile and waving her off as she slipped away to join her friends.

Erik let out a sigh of relief.

And then a pretty blonde passed their way and the whole thing started all over again.

Erik silently counted to ten in a bid for patience. When that didn’t work, he sighed, turned around and, with a grim expression on his face, signalled for the bartender to come over.

‘Oh are you getting us another round?’ Xavier was suddenly alert and at his side, as if the siren’s call of alcohol took precedence over even his flirtation. ‘Marvellous. I’ll have a martini, if you please. And make sure it’s –’

‘Shaken not stirred, yes, yes, I know,’ Erik rolled his eyes.

Xavier’s eyes twinkled at that and his mouth pulled up into an appreciative smile. ‘My,’ he murmured, sounding pleased. ‘You certainly have done your homework on me, Mr. Lehnsherr.’

Erik’s eyebrow rose. ‘Hardly,’ he said, his tone dry, trying to sound deliberately dismissive. ‘It isn’t something that was overly difficult to find out. All one has to do to get information on you is mention your name to any single vaguely pretty woman in a fifty mile radius.’ He neglected to mention that the information had actually been part of Xavier’s bio in the brief he had received from CIA mission control. Apparently his favourite drink held something of a legendary status, even across the pond.

Xavier laughed at that, clearly amused. ‘Is that so?’ he asked, his eyes twinkling. ‘Well, I can’t say that it wouldn’t work, but you would be limiting yourself greatly by doing that.’

Erik frowned. ‘How so?’ he asked.

‘Well, you only asked the women.’ Charles’s eyes, although lowered modestly, had a mischievous glint to them. At Erik’s continued look of puzzlement, he raised his eyes so that their gazes could meet before smirking wickedly. ‘If you want the _real_ dirt on me, then you should have asked the _men_.’

Erik stared at him for a moment. Before he could stop himself, his eyes had darted down to Xavier’s red, wetted lips and then up again to his blue, blue eyes, which were watching him now with a flicker of amusement that was quickly becoming familiar.

‘Oh dear,’ Charles murmured, his eyes twinkling. ‘I seem to have shocked you.’

‘Not at all,’ Erik said stiffly.

‘I do apologise,’ Charles said, ignoring him. ‘My mouth just runs away with me sometimes. _Do_ let me know if there is anything that I can do to put you at ease.’ The words were said artlessly enough but the gleam in Xavier’s eyes gave away the fact that the offer was anything but innocent.

‘I will keep it in mind,’ Erik said through gritted teeth.

‘Please do,’ Charles murmured, and took a deep sip of his martini.

The conversation continued in pretty much the same way for the next twenty minutes.

Erik, who was torn between two different sorts of frustration, found it very hard to believe that he and Xavier were engaging in the same discussion. He was talking to Charles about important matters of national security, whereas Charles …

Well, who knew _what_ Agent Xavier was talking about. Whatever it was, it certainly had nothing to do with security.

‘That’s right!’ Xavier said brightly, waving his hands with unrepressed enthusiasm. ‘Mutation took us from single-celled organisms to being the dominant form of reproductive life on this planet. Infinite forms of variation with each generation, all through mutation!’

Erik had no idea what to say to that, and the words patently had nothing to do with the highly sensitive government matter that they were supposed to be discussing, but Charles looked so happy and enthusiastic that he Erik felt a deep, intrinsic need to respond positively. ‘That’s … nice,’ he said, feeling like a complete and utter failure as a super spy. 

Charles beamed at him, and Erik began to feel slightly guilty for paying more attention to Charles’s lips than to his actual words. He gave himself a mental shake and resolved to pay more attention to what Charles was saying … never mind that whatever he was saying was completely and utterly irrelevant to the matter at hand.

He’d better do something about that.

‘Look,’ Erik interrupted him another few minutes had passed without Charles pausing in his irrelevant chatter. ‘That’s all terribly interesting, but really Agent Xavier—’

‘Charles,’ Charles corrected cheerfully.

‘ _Charles_ ,’ Erik gave him a tight smile. ‘Don’t you think that we should really get back to discussing the terms of our transaction?’

Charles blinked. ‘Oh,’ he said, sounding far more surprised by this than he had any right to. ‘Well – if you’re sure you want to.’

‘I’m sure,’ Erik said quickly. ‘Now,’ he said, sitting up straight and allowing his expression to become more serious. ‘I am sure your side know what it is that we are after. I am currently authorised to offer …’

The discussion – or rather, negotiations – went on for a while. Erik found himself doing most of the talking, while Charles listened, interjecting here and there but for the most part keeping silent.

As they continued to talk, however, Xavier seemed to become slightly distracted. His eyes would wander and he would frown at odd moments, only to then come back to himself and smile brightly at Erik as if nothing was amiss.

Erik wasn’t too pleased about that. He had initially thought that maybe Xavier had some sort of earpiece that he was listening to as they talked, but he had used his powers to check and he had felt not even the slightest wisp of metal about Charles’s person. In the end, all that he could say was that either Charles had something very important on his mind, or else he had perhaps the shortest attention span of anyone that he had ever met, and not just for a spy.

He was determined not to be too bitter about it however. It wasn’t any of his concern if Charles was troubled or if he was the world’s most abysmal spy. And of course, any irritation he felt was completely down to the fact that he was an _official agent of the CIA_ who was being paid none of the attention that he deserved by his British contact; it had absolutely _nothing_ to do with the fact that he wanted Xavier to focus 100% of his attention on him instead of pretty young things in skirts.

‘Am I boring you, Agent Xavier?’ he bit out at one point, when Xavier had spent a whole minute just staring off into the distance and not listening to a word of Erik’s carefully-worded offer to share the American government’s information in return for British cooperation. 

Charles blinked and was suddenly once again focused on him, an innocent smile crossing his face. ‘What? No, of course not. I heard every word you said.’

When Erik raised a doubtful eyebrow at that, Charles let out a sigh and, keeping his eyes strangely focused on Erik, perfectly relayed Erik’s last sentence to him, exactly as Erik had spoken it.

Erik, reluctantly impressed, continued on with his negotiation. 

And then it happened again.

This time Erik stopped mid-sentence, not bothering to hide his irritation. ‘Is something wrong, Agent Xavier?’ he asked in a clipped tone, narrowing his eyes.

Charles blinked and turned to him. ‘Not at all,’ he murmured, looking perfectly demure. ‘I just – er – have rather a lot on my mind.’

Erik frowned at that, eyeing Charles suspiciously. Charles looked back innocently, looking for all the world like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

With a heavy sigh – and a good deal of annoyance – Erik went back to outlining his agency’s proposition. 

Only for Charles to abruptly hold up a finger to his face, stopping him dead in the middle of his sentence.

‘Oh what is it now?’ Erik snapped, unable to rein in his frustration any longer.

‘Terribly sorry,’ Charles apologised, even as he turned around and his eyes zeroed in on a man who had just finished paying the bill. ‘Please excuse me for a moment. I – er – seem to have _spied_ someone I know.’

Erik opened his mouth to question him but Charles was already on the move, slipping elegantly between the tables and neatly sidestepping a harried waiter. 

As Erik watched, Charles approached the man who was just beginning to rise to his feet and, with a genial smile on his face, planted a hand on the man’s shoulder, and pushed him back down into his seat. It was a move of supreme ease and casualness; Erik had no doubt that to anyone who hadn’t been watching closely it would merely have looked like Charles had lightly clasped the man’s shoulder. Erik, however, had seen the stunned and then _scared_ expression on the man’s face as he had glanced up at Charles, and he had seen how heavily the man had fallen back into his seat. 

As Erik watched, Charles smoothly inserted himself into the booth, taking the seat beside the man. He said something, smiling pleasantly all the while, even going so far as to put his arm around him. The man, however, cringed at the touch, his face still pale and every so slightly sweaty.

Erik had no idea what was going on. He wished he could hear what it was that Charles was saying but he was too far away, and Charles wasn’t even looking in his direction, which meant that Erik couldn’t even read his lips. Perhaps that was for the best though. Charles’s lips were far too distracting.

Erik watched as Charles spoke a few low words into the man’s ear, his expression never deviating from one of polite friendliness. The man, on the other hand, looked ill, pale and sweaty and with a visible tremor to his hands. Erik narrowed his eyes. Scared men were often stupid men, and if this one had a—

He felt it before he saw it, his senses zeroing in the metal gun in the man’s pocket – and how could he not have sensed that, how could he have been so careless – seconds before the man’s hands jerked down and grasped hold of the gun, tearing it from his pocket.

Erik’s mind blared with fear and alarm and he was about to surge to his feet to aid Charles –

And then he blinked because one moment the man had been about to raise his gun and then next he was slumped forward, his face mashed into the table, while Charles studied him with idle curiosity. A small trickle of blood ran from his head and Erik grimaced. The man had probably smashed his nose into the hard tabletop. Erik glanced at Charles’s impassive expression. He’d probably had some help there, too.

Erik took a quick glance around but no one else seemed to have noticed what had happened – or, at least, if they had then they were deliberately ignoring it and focusing elsewhere. 

Reassured that there would be no fuss, Erik once more directed his attention back to Charles. Charles was now turned aside from the man slumped over next to him, and he had one foot out of the booth, ready to head out. He did not move immediately but instead waited for a moment. A minute later, waitress headed towards the table and Charles relaxed, straightening up. He gave a meaningful look to the approaching waitress – and Erik hadn’t seen this one before, and he was _sure_ that he had identified all of the members of staff who were on duty – and then, with an easy smile, Charles slid out of the booth, tucked his hands into his pockets, and casually strolled over to where Erik was waiting for him with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

‘What was that?’ Erik demanded the moment he approached, feeling perplexed.

Charles lifted one eyebrow and for a moment Erik thought that he would deny that anything had happened, but then he just gave Erik a brief, impersonal smile. ‘I’m afraid his meal didn’t agree with him,’ he said lightly, before sitting down on the seat next to Erik.

Erik stared at him flatly. ‘Seriously,’ he said, looking at Charles. ‘That’s what you’re going with? “His meal didn’t agree with him”?’

Charles shrugged. ‘What can I say? The man has a sensitive stomach.’ He paused. ‘And face. A sensitive face too, probably.’

‘You broke his nose,’ Erik pointed out.

Charles grimaced. ‘I probably did, didn’t I?’ He gave Erik an apologetic look. ‘It is rather unfortunate that I had to resort to that, but then he _did_ have a gun …’

‘True,’ Erik agreed. ‘But was it really necessary to knock him out?’ Erik raised his eyebrow. ‘Surely it would have been more useful to keep him conscious so that you could get whatever information you needed out of him instead?’

‘I already got all that I needed to know,’ Charles said with an easy shrug. ‘Besides, M would have my head if I’d questioned him right here in public, and _technically_ I’m not supposed to handle interrogations while still out in the field …’ He gave Erik a wry smile. ‘I figure that it’s in my best interests to steer clear of M’s wrath and just stick to the job I’ve been handed.’ His mouth twitched and his eyes took on a mischievous glint. ‘I wouldn’t want to put anyone’s _nose_ out of joint, after all …’

‘Too late,’ Erik muttered. He was, however, slightly horrified to find that his lips had been curling up at the edges. 

Charles glanced over at him and grinned. ‘Touché,’ he said, smiling. 

‘You still haven’t told me what was going on, though,’ Erik pointed out, watching Charles narrowly.

Charles simply rolled his eyes. ‘That man was a procurer of sensitive materials,’ he said delicately, waving the bartender over for another drink. ‘The agency asked me to keep an eye on him and make sure that he didn’t go doing anything silly like selling certain radioactive substances to our enemies.’ 

‘Ah,’ Erik nodded. ‘And you decided that now would be the ideal time to deal with him?’

Charles shrugged. ‘I enjoy multitasking,’ he said simply. ‘You don’t mind do you?’

Erik eyed him for a moment and then rolled his eyes. ‘Hardly,’ he said, shaking his head. His eyes then darted to the booth the man had been in but he saw to his surprise that it was empty. ‘Where did he go?’ he asked, frowning.

Charles glanced over at the booth and then shook his head. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said easily. ‘It’s being taken care of.’

Erik thought for a moment. ‘The waitress?’ he asked after a beat.

‘Yes,’ Charles nodded. ‘She’s with me. It’s always good to have backup around at times like these, wouldn’t you agree?’

Something clicked in Erik’s head. ‘So,’ he said slowly. ‘All those girls …’ He trailed off, not knowing how to finish his sentence in a way that did not make him look either jealous or prudish.

Charles looked at him for a moment and then smiled. ‘The girls were my backup,’ he explained, looking slightly apologetic. ‘I wasn’t really flirting with them, you know. Well,’ he amended. ‘Except for the redhead. _She_ was just here for a drink. And I’m rather partial to that particular colour.’ His eyes drifted to Erik’s hair and Erik, to his endless irritation, actually found himself colouring a little.

‘All the others – they were all MI6?’ he asked instead, trying to deflect.

A secretive smile passed over Charles’s face. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I suppose they _all_ were. In a way.’ He glanced across the room where a lovely young blonde with hair the colour of honey winked at him and raised a glass in his direction. He raised his glass in return, his expression immeasurably fond. 

‘Huh.’ That, of course, put things into perspective. It was something of relief to Erik, to find out that Charles hadn’t actually been flirting with all those women who had passed by them. He didn’t allow himself to question why. ‘I honestly had no idea.’ He had used his powers to check them all for weapons, of course – Erik hadn’t survived this long by being lax with security – but none of the women had carried anything remotely suspicious.

‘You ought to have listened more carefully then,’ Charles said dryly. ‘Or do you really think that it is likely that I could run into a Miss Verity Buxom, a Fanny Kissinger _and_ an Anita Dickson all in the space of an hour?’

Erik blinked. ‘… Anita Dickson?’

Charles raised an eyebrow. ‘Think about it,’ he murmured before huffing out a laugh. ‘God knows Raven did. She has about a hundred of those names stored up and ready to go at any one time.’

‘Raven?’ Erik repeated, feeling slightly out of his depth. It wasn’t a feeling that he was particularly familiar with. He couldn’t say he liked it much either.

‘My sister,’ Charles explained, sounding slightly apologetic. He nodded to the corner where the blonde girl was still sitting. ‘That’s her over there. You also might remember her as Miss Buxom or Miss Dickson or Miss Kissinger.’

Erik stared at the sweet-faced blonde girl sat at a booth a short way away from them. She caught his glance and winked at him, a roguish expression that gave truth to the asserted familial link between her and Charles. He stared at her for a long moment before the words caught up to him. 

‘Wait – that was _her_?’ he asked, astonished. ‘Miss … whatever their names were. They were all her? Remarkable,’ he breathed as Charles nodded smugly. ‘She has a talent for disguise.’

Charles’s smile widened. ‘Oh my friend, you have no idea.’

Erik settled back, for some reason feeling greatly more relaxed and good-humoured now that he knew that Charles hadn’t been flirting ceaselessly with anything that crossed his path – probably because it proved that Xavier wasn’t _completely_ incompetent, he told himself. ‘So the women were actually your sister …’ he pondered that for a moment before smirking. ‘So … you were flirting with your sister?’

Charles’s brow furrowed. ‘Don’t be crude,’ he said reproachfully. ‘Of course not. I was communicating with her.’

Erik frowned again, trying to recall if there was anything suspicious about Charles’s interactions with the girls, but he couldn’t think of anything. They were probably using code, he decided. It had to be a remarkably clever one too, to get by him and pass so easily in normal conversation.

He turned to give Charles a reluctant look of admiration. Perhaps Xavier really wasn’t the empty-headed pretty boy that he’d thought he was after all.

‘Empty-headed!’ Charles’s eyebrow abruptly shot up. ‘Well, that’s not very nice. It’s not as if I’m at my best when at a bar. And, if I’m honest with you, I’m not all that keen on the “pretty boy”, either.’ He gave Erik a reproachful look. ‘I much prefer “strikingly handsome”, if you must know.’

Erik blinked. ‘What?’ he asked, not sure that he had heard clearly.

But Xavier hadn’t finished. ‘And just for the record, I promise you that I honestly did do all those things that you were thinking about earlier. Well,’ he amended, ‘Maybe I didn’t save the world _quite_ as much at the stories say – sometimes it was just England I was saving, or Europe, or once there was teeny-tiny island off the Spanish coast …’

Erik just stared at him, bewildered. ‘What?’ he asked again, feeling completely out of his depth. ‘I – what … how did you …?’

Charles frowned. ‘Well – I read your mind, of course.’

‘You _what_?’

‘Read your mind,’ Charles repeated, still frowning. ‘You know … with my telepathy?’

Erik froze. ‘You—’ he swallowed. ‘You’re a _telepath_.’ He had just spent the last hour with a telepath. He, a top level spy with numerous classified secrets in his head, had just spent the last hour drinking with a telepath. He, a top level spy with numerous secrets in his head had just spent the last hour fantasising about the lips and checking out the ass of a goddamn _telepath_.

‘You—’ he cleared his throat, his cheeks burning. ‘You never said.’

‘Well – I honestly thought that you’d figured it out,’ Charles said, looking simultaneously apologetic and reproachful, as if it were in any way _Erik’s_ fault that he hadn’t immediately identified Charles as a telepath from his wholly invisible mutation.

‘How was I supposed to have done that?’ Erik growled, torn between anger and the deepest mortification.

‘I thought it was obvious!’ Charles protested. ‘I was talking to you about _mutation_. What else did you think I was talking about?’

‘I don’t know!’ Erik exploded. ‘You were blathering on about something or the other so I just pretended to listen!’

‘Well that’s rude,’ Charles frowned, looking put out. He then sighed. ‘I genuinely did think you knew, though. I mean - I thought it would be in my file!’

‘Well it wasn’t,’ Erik snapped, not at all mollified by Xavier’s apologetic tone. ‘And I will have you know that I will be reporting this as a security breach of the highest level.’

‘Oh come off it,’ Charles snorted. ‘You’re being melodramatic. I’m hardly a threat to your security.’

‘You’re a telepath,’ Erik said bluntly. ‘And we are both spies. There really is no other way to take this.’

‘Now you’re just being unfair,’ Charles said, narrowing his eyes. ‘I really don’t know why you are being like this. After all, it’s not like you’re completely unfamiliar with telepaths.’ Charles frowned at Erik. ‘I’m hardly the first one you’ve encountered. Your own boss is one, heaven’s sake!’

Erik swung to look at him, suddenly tense. ‘You know about Frost?’ he demanded, his back rigid. His heart was pounding. Frost was going to _kill_ him for this, he knew.

Charles, however, simply rolled his eyes, looking completely unconcerned. ‘Of course I know her. Me and Emma go _way_ back, she’s a very dear friend,’ he said, waving a careless hand. He then paused and frowned at Erik. ‘Are you _sure_ she didn’t tell you about me?’

Erik glared at him, even as his heart slowed down to a more leisurely pace now that he knew that Emma was aware of Charles and his telepathy. ‘Fuck you,’ he muttered, feeling more irritated now than apprehensive. Sticking him with Xavier had obviously been Emma’s terrible idea of a joke.

Charles shrugged, unfazed by Erik’s normally very effective glare. ‘How odd,’ he remarked, his tone light. ‘She’s told me an awful lot about _you_ , you know. I’ve very much been looking forward to meeting you.’

Erik blinked, his surprise temporarily shocking him out of his disgruntlement. ‘You have?’ he asked warily.

‘Oh yes,’ Charles said honestly, nodding. ‘Emma speaks very highly of you. And believe me when I say that she doesn’t do that very often at all.’ He sighed. ‘I _really_ did think that she would have told you about the telepathy. That said,’ he added, giving Erik a pointed look. ‘I would have thought that you would have figured it out by yourself even without the warning, considering all the hints I was sending your way.’ He ran an eye up Erik’s chest, looking half amused, half exasperated. ‘I must say, you’re not as quick on the uptake as I had hoped,’ he murmured, biting his lip in a way that Erik might have found exceedingly distracting if he wasn’t currently so full of indignation. Charles paused then, and cocked his head at Erik and looked at him curiously, causing Erik to fidget a little. Then, sounding rather doubtful, he said, ‘You _do_ realise that I have been flirting with you all evening, don’t you?’ He actually sounded resigned, as if he didn’t hold out much hope for the answer.

Erik stared at him. ‘What?’ he asked, blinking dumbly at the man in front of him, his heart beating unusually fast.

Charles sighed. ‘I knew it,’ he muttered, shaking his head. ‘And Raven tells me that I’m too _obvious_ when I flirt.’ He scoffed. ‘I knew she was exaggerating.’

‘You were—’ Erik shook his head, dazed. ‘You were flirting with me? With _me_?’

Charles pouted. It was rather stupidly attractive, Erik thought dazedly. ‘Of course I was,’ he said, sounding almost offended. Then he blinked. ‘You don’t think that I really _did_ invite you over to my place to take a look at my rare book collection, did you?’

Erik shrugged helplessly. ‘I thought you seemed like the type to have one!’ he said, feeling a little lost.

Charles bit his lip at that. ‘… Okay, so I honestly _do_ have a rare book collection,’ he admitted. ‘And it is pretty impressive, if I do say so myself – but honestly! Did you really not recognise that for a line?’

‘No,’ Erik shook his head and then paused. ‘Although that time in Budapest is starting to make a _lot_ more sense now that I know that.’

‘What happened in Budapest?’ Charles asked interestedly.

‘It’s classified,’ Erik said shortly, before taking a sip of his drink. ‘Besides, it’s irrelevant.’

‘Later then,’ Charles agreed. He then bit his lip. ‘So,’ he said, arching an eyebrow. ‘Now that you know …’

‘Yes?’

Charles gave him a winning smile. ‘Do you want to come back to mine and check out my rare book collection?’ 

Erik was tempted. He was very tempted. But his duty to his agency came first and, despite how very much he wanted to drag Xavier into the nearest bathroom and see if all those rumours about his prowess in bed were true, he needed to settle things there before he went and compromised this mission any further.

‘I … would like to,’ he admitted, grimacing, ‘But I need to check in with Frost and let her know what’s going on. I probably ought to have left the moment we finished negotiating but …’ Erik paused and then turned away and scowled at the table. ‘Anyway, I need to get back to base and let them know what’s happening.’

Charles wrinkled his nose. ‘Well,’ he said, scratching his chin. ‘You don’t _really_.’

Erik frowned. ‘What?’

Charles shrugged. ‘Well,’ he said cautiously. ‘I just meant that there’s really no rush. It’s all taken care of.’ At Erik’s blank expression, Charles rolled his eyes. ‘I sent a mental confirmation to Emma almost twenty minutes ago,’ he explained, his lips slowly curling up into an infuriatingly attractive smirk. ‘She’s already been in communication with Moira – I mean _M_ – and the deal is a go.’

‘What?’ Erik sat up straight, ‘Why didn’t you say so?’

Charles blinked innocently. ‘I thought Emma would let you know,’ he said with a careless shrug.

Erik scowled. He hadn’t heard a peep from Emma, and he was beginning to wonder just how much information she usually kept back from him. 

‘Oh don’t be like that,’ Charles said, patting Erik on the arm. ‘Emma is very fond of you, you know.’

‘It doesn’t feel like it,’ Erik muttered, feeling rather grumpy at being kept out of the loop.

‘She just wanted you to enjoy yourself a little,’ Charles said soothingly. ‘You _were_ enjoying yourself, weren’t you?’

Erik turned to him with a raised eyebrow. Then he rolled his eyes. ‘A little,’ he admitted.

Charles’s smile turned sly. ‘Would you like to enjoy yourself even more?’ he murmured.

Erik couldn’t resist letting out a snort of laughter. ‘Terrible,’ he muttered, shaking his head. He then turned back to Charles. ‘Is your rare book collection really all that impressive?’ he asked wryly.

‘Well,’ Charles said with a completely straight face, ‘I’ve personally always found it to be the source of a _great_ deal of pleasure.’

Erik snorted. ‘I’m sure you have,’ he said. He sighed and shook his head. ‘Well, go on then,’ he said holding up his hands. ‘Lead the way, Mr. Xavier.’

‘Excellent,’ Charles said with a smile. ‘And I promise you, Erik, by tonight you will most certainly be feeling shaken _and_ stirred.’

Erik rolled his eyes. ‘Terrible,’ he muttered, his lips twitching even as he followed Charles away from the bar. ‘Absolutely terrible.’

‘Oh, I’ve only just got started,’ Charles said breezily as he stepped through the door. ‘Just wait until you hear about my licence to _thrill_.’


End file.
